


My Crown is in My Heart

by DrakkHammer



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Everyone lives -Yay!, Fluff, Happily Ever After, Love, M/M, So many feels.., Sweet Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 20:17:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4033147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrakkHammer/pseuds/DrakkHammer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is for the lovely Luirumi because she needs some sexy fluff in her life. </p>
<p> It's also an entry for FiKi week - Day 6 - Erebor</p>
<p>Fluff, sweet love and happily ever after - my favorite stories of all. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Crown is in My Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Luirumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luirumi/gifts).



Love was always around them. Mum cuddled, fed, bathed and nurtured. Uncle Thorin with his deep voice sang them silly songs and lullabies, told stories and wrestled with them, drawing giggles and screams from small fat bodies that never knew a harsh touch. Dwalin was there, scared at first and then also a partner in games, although sometimes too rough, but always soothing and sorry and ready with a cookie to smooth over feelings. Balin the wise, a gentle presence who held chubby fingers to help them trace runes onto the learning slate.

Love was something they never questioned.

Dwarflings grew quickly and then slowly, giving time for heavy bones to mature. Kili caught up to Fili in height, but never in weight. Dis said he took after her grandmother, who was always slender and graceful. She quashed talk of Elves with threats of a mouthful of her lye soap. Even Dwalin quailed before her when she laid down the Law. She had a brawny son and a slender one. A golden son who mirrored the sky and one with mahogany-dark hair and flashing eyes that were as deep as the caverns they mined. Yin and Yang, they differed and yet perfectly matched. You could not think of one without the other.

Wherever one went the other followed, from childhood games, to lessons, to sparring, to hunting. Kili took to the bow as a duck to water. His grace made him a natural with it. He flowed through the woods as silent and deadly as an adder. Fili teamed with him and drove the game towards his bow, but was a nimble hunter himself. He could throw a knife with deadly accuracy, always seeming to know where the target would be even in mid-flight. Together they kept their family fed, leaving Thorin free to manage the affairs that princes seemed to thrive on.

“Not me,” Fili said one day as they sat on a flat rock overlooking the stream they were fishing. “I’m never going to be a prince or a king.”

He cast his line out, watching the ripples spread, ignoring Kili’s frown. “I’m always going to stay here with you and hunt and fish. I have no desire to wear the crown. I’m not like Thorin, I don’t like…”

“Responsibility?” Kili chided.

Fili laughed, his eyes sparkling, dimples making him look younger than his years. “That too, I guess. What I was going to say, was that I don’t like staying indoors all the time. I feel trapped. Thorin never gets out to see the sky.”

The brunet chuckled. “We’re Dwarves, we aren’t supposed to see the sky.”

Bracing his rod with his boot, Fili lay back, folding his arms beneath his head. He looked up at the sky. “I don’t want to give it up. I don’t want to go down into a mountain forever. I don’t like the darkness and the feeling of having an entire mountain on top of me.”

Looking thoughtful Kili mused, “Maybe you were supposed to be an Elf, or a Hobbit.”

Fili’s laugh echoed, sending a robin into flight. “Don’t say that in front of Uncle, or he will use mother’s laundry soap to wash your mouth.”

“I kind of like the mountain,” his brother replied. “It feels safe to have so much stone between me and Orcs and Goblins.”

“Good, then it’s settled.” Fili said decisively, sitting up to grab his pole before the fish dragged it out of his grip.

“Settled?” Kili sat up, a puzzled look scrunching his face. He scraped the hair out of his eyes and blinked. “What’s settled?”

“Why that you will be the king, of course.” The blond tugged on the pole, deftly setting the hook and then playing the fish to tire it so that he could land it. “I’ll come and visit.”

Kili turned and looked at him, his expression a mix of fear and pain. “But you can’t leave. Not ever.”

His breath hitched as his eyes began to shimmer. “There is no me without you.”

His brother looked at him feeling his own eyes well up as he realized what he had said. He slid sideways, sitting on the pole to hold it. Gathering Kili into his arms he pressed a tender kiss into his hair.

“You’re right,” he whispered. “We have to always be together. When I am king you must always be there to remind me of that. You are my sky and my stars, no matter how deep the mountain goes you will help me remember the light.”

Kili smiled and the sun came out. “And I will share the burden and you will be there to help me remember the sky and fields.”

 

* * *

 

But the fishing and hunting did end and the darkness brought not stars but fear. The sun didn’t shine on upturned faces, it blazed down on struggling Dwarves who fought the land and those who lived upon it as they made their way to a mountain they had never seen and whose name rang like a curse in their minds.

There were horrors that made them both tremble as they had as children when Dwalin forgot himself and told the Dwarflings what really happened in a battle. The old warrior could never have thought of being trapped in trees that toppled, or of fighting Orcs and wargs and Goblin kings, of riding eagles that bent to the will of a wizard. They lived tales that would never be believed and thought they would see neither sun nor stars ever again.

When it was over and dragonfire was as cold as Smaug’s body, they clung together, wounds throbbing, sharing nightmares that lasted into the light so that they scarce knew if they were awake or asleep. Pain seared and throbbed, but being together made it bearable, they insisted that they lie in the same bed even though it hurt worse and made the healers tut with vexation. To be parted from one another for even a moment was worse pain that spear thrusts and knife wounds.

Healing came to them because their bodies were young and strong. It came to Thorin as well. It was slower and paced the healing of his mind. He wept at what he had done and swore an oath upon his mountain that none of his kin would ever again be forced to act against their wishes.

Finally the healers departed leaving Fili and Kili alone for the first time since the battle.

Fili rose stiffly from their bed and stretched, easing his muscles. Kili sat up next to him and heaved a sigh heavy with weariness and loss. He felt as old as the mountain that surrounded them.

His brother looked at him and sat back down. He ran gentle fingers through unruly dark locks, his eyes more like storm than sky. Broad calloused fingers brushed the raised scar that ran from Kili’s shoulder up the column of his neck. There were more scars hidden beneath the loose-weave linen shirt that his brother wore, although the bruises were now healed and gone from purple to yellow as they faded into pale olive skin.

“Take off your shirt.” Fili’s voice was soft, the request even softer.

A raven eyebrow rose. “Why?”

“Because I need to see you.” He didn’t understand the request himself. He just knew that he needed to see healing wounds and mending scars. He’d seen Kili’s body only briefly as the healers had tended him, changing this bandage and that, but now that they were gone he needed reassurance that his brother was indeed alive and whole.

Kili looked up at Fili and then lifted the hem of his shirt and swept it off, letting it fall next to him on the bed. His brother’s intake of breath was long and shuddering.

“Oh Mahal…” He looked at the long slash that ran up Kili’s back, nearly connecting with the one on his shoulder. It was closed now but the scar was discolored and ugly. Lower on the other side was a pucker where an arrow had made it through skin and muscle before being stopped by bone. His chest too, had a scar that bisected his right areola just missing the nipple. The flesh was puckered, the soft rose-gold of the nipple darkened.

Fili had no words for what was in his heart. Kili was his sky…his sun, his stars. Everything good and beautiful had always been personified in his body…his lean muscular perfect body.

Without thinking he stat next to his brother and leaned over to kiss the scar on his shoulder. His lips trailed upward as if by loving it he could smooth the skin and make it vanish. Fili’s lips swept upward to the scar that ran up Kili’s neck, his lips following it, his hands holding Kili close to him, protecting him as he sought to heal him.

Kili’s breath caught in his throat. He released it in a long soft sigh that echoed in the little room. Turning slightly he bent his head toward Fili, leaning into the caress, whimpering at the fluttering it roused in his heart.

Emboldened, Fili trailed kisses down across his shoulder, sliding strong hands down his brother’s arm. He wound their fingers together, squeezing as he lifted Kili’s hand to his mouth. He pressed gentle kisses to the scarred wrist and fingers, then turned and pressed one final one into the well of his brother’s palm. His tongue flicked out for half an instant, tasting the skin and salt there.

Kili froze. It felt as though his heart was too full to beat and it, along with time, had stopped, frozen in this one perfect moment.

“Take your shirt off, brother,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the pounding in Fili’s ears.

It joined Kili’s shirt in a tangle and Fili sat quietly, his breath coming in sips as he looked into the dark heat of his brother’s eyes.

Kili reached out and traced the drawn puckered outline of the arrow that had pierced his brother’s shoulder. It hadn’t gone deep, but barbs made messy work of removing it. His hand descended to the long line scar that ran downward across Fili’s abdomen. Had his belt not deflected it at the last moment, he would not be sitting on the bed hoping that his body wasn’t completely repulsive. He’d always been proud of his looks and doffed his shirt whenever possible. He knew Kili envied his thick muscles, but who would envy the slashed ruin that he had become?

Kili’s other hand explored his back, pausing at the wound where the knife had bitten deeply. It was still sensitive and Fili pulled away from the pressure, leaning right into his brother. Instinctively, strong arms reached out to hold him and they paused for a moment and then let themselves embrace.

Fili was so broad, even having lost some mass during his recovery, that he filled his brother’s arms. Kili was even more slender than he had been and the blond held him lightly as if fearing that he had become fragile. But Kili wanted to feel the strength of being held and pressed to a chest thick with muscle and wiry hair. He wanted to feel that Fili was alive against him. Burying his face into the tangle of hair at his brother’s neck he held Fili as if he would never let go.

Their bodies pressed together, faces buried deep in long soft hair, just breathing one another’s unique scent. Each celebrating their love of the other. Neither knew who first pressed his lips to skin, nor did it matter enough to try to remember. All that mattered was the fierce heat that rose between them.

Strong hands slid along soft skin, holding and pulling, kneading willing flesh to come closer still until not even a breath was between them. Skin salty with sweat was sweet against their tongues as they nuzzled one another, exploring neck and shoulders. Teeth scraped gently, tasting and nipping, worrying skin and muscle, bringing on the heat. Hotter than dragonfire, their caresses had them gasping and panting. Lips that had never kissed found that to be no barrier, crushing together eager to steal the other’s very breath.

They fell back on the bed still joined, each reluctant to give up the other long enough to undress. They tore at one another’s clothes, fighting fabric that had become twisted. Finally they were able to break free, hurling scraps of cloth to the floor.

Fili’s hands swept over Kili’s body from shoulders to back and lower to grip round buttocks and pull him in closer. The brunet was up full staff, weeping with desire, the thin fluid smearing across Fili’s belly, first burnng and then chill as the air hit it. His length rubbed along Kili’s thigh, leaving it’s own trail of lust. He snapped his hips upward seeking more stimulation and Kili instinctively reached down to grip him.

The blond nearly spent himself as he felt his brother’s hand encircle him, hot and calloused; nothing had ever felt better or given him more pleasure. Keening wordlessly he arched into it begging for more.

Kili’s erection was trapped between their bodies, riding against the rough fur and silken skin of Fili’s belly. The opposing sensations drove him nearly mad with lust. Digging his fingers into Fili’s waist he rutted upward, desperate to get the stimulation his body demanded. The heat rose in him, curling in his belly, racing down his spine to pool molten and demanding in his cock. Fili bore down, arching his own hips adding more friction until Kili cried out and thrust once, twice and then spilled hot fluid between them, his staff pumping out jet after jet, jerking hard as he came crying out his brother’s name.

Fili was with him in an instant. Kili had inadvertently squeezed harder, the clench around his organ and the force of the brunet’s orgasm set Fili off and he cried Kili’s name over and over as he spurted great shimmering blobs of ivory onto his brother’s thigh.

They clung together, breath sobbing. Lips that had torn kisses, now pressed gently, tongues that had dueled were soft and tender flicking out to caress. Hands that had been bruising in their intensity gentled and held tenderly, brushing tenderly over sweat slick skin.

“I’m so sorry,” Fili whispered at last. He could not look at his brother.

Kili’s reply was a kiss that ended with a sweep of his tongue across Fili’s lips, making his breath catch in his throat.

“I’m not.” The tongue swept again, followed by a kiss that kindled the embers that still smoldered in Fili’s groin. “I have wanted you for longer than I can remember. Now that I know you want me as well, I have no intention of ever giving you up.”

Surprised and delighted, Fili returned the kiss. “Not ever?”

Kili rolled over to lay on his brother’s chest. He looked into sapphire eyes and smiled. “When I return to the stone it will be by your side.”

Fili slid his arms around Kili, sighing happily as he drew him closer. “And I will be by yours.”

“Even once you wear the crown?”

Fili smiled. “My Crown will be in my heart, not on my head. Thorin wears his too heavily. With you by my side I believe I can bear the burden.”

Kili curled against him, dark eyes soft with contentment. “And I will never let you bear it so heavily that you forget there are stars and sunlit meadows and fish to be caught.”

Strong fingers caressed golden hair and whatever thought Fili had fled to be replaced by the wonder in his arms. Dark and light, yin and yang, forever complimentary, forever in love.

In the fullness of years they became the Kings Under the Mountain, one golden as a meadow, one dark, yet glowing with light. But most of all they remained Fili and Kili – one heart, one soul until they returned to the stone and after.


End file.
